


Day 25: Christmas Morning

by Venusdoom3



Series: 25 Days of Stucky Christmas Challenge [25]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 25 days of Christmas challenge, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Morning, Fluff, Fluffy Ending, M/M, New York City, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 20:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9089944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venusdoom3/pseuds/Venusdoom3
Summary: "Can't we just stay home and stay in bed all day?" Bucky sighed, his fingertips ghosting over Steve's cheek.Steve chuckled, lips curving into a wistful smile. "I wish we could, but we promised we'd be there. Besides, our friends are the only family we have left—""—besides each other," Bucky murmured. "Everything else has changed, but that never has."





	

**Author's Note:**

> Again, sorry this installment is late, but hey... at least I finished the challenge! *phew*
> 
> (Warning: You may need to brush your teeth when this is over.)

"Hey."

"Mmm." As Steve slid his arms around him from behind, Bucky hummed, melting into his warmth. Presents were opened, breakfast was eaten, and dishes were done, and as far as Bucky was concerned, they could spend the rest of the day just like that, pressed together and swaying lightly in the middle of the kitchen.

"We have a little time before we have to meet everybody," Steve murmured, and Bucky found he would also be perfectly happy moving from their current location if Steve had a better idea. "Want to go back to bed for a while?"

That absolutely met Bucky's criteria for a _better idea_.

They undressed and crawled back under the covers, snuggling up for warmth amid the cool sheets, which, after several long, lavish kisses, warmed quickly. Twining their legs, Bucky rolled half on top of Steve, his hair falling around them as he deepened the kiss, rubbing almost absently against Steve's hip. Steve took a handful of Bucky's ass and squeezed, pulling Bucky more fully on top of him, and Bucky broke the kiss by laughing as he purposely tickled Steve's face with his hair.

"Hold on," Bucky said, pecking Steve on the lips once more before sitting up to kneel between Steve's splayed thighs. Tugging a hair elastic off his wrist, he swiftly tied his hair back, watching Steve watch him; Steve's full, kiss-reddened lips were parted, his irresistible blue eyes adoring, and Bucky's heart swelled with love for him, so pure and intense it made his chest ache.

"Bucky," Steve whispered, reaching for him, and Bucky lowered himself on top of Steve again, his hands on either side of Steve's head, infusing the kiss he pressed to Steve's lips with all the tenderness he possessed.

"I'm so lucky to have you." Bucky kissed the tip of Steve's nose, smiling down at him. Maybe it was the holiday making him feel extra sappy, the reality of waking up in Steve's arms on Christmas morning for the first time in almost three quarters of a century, but that didn't cheapen the feeling. All he wanted, all he'd ever wanted, was to wake in Steve's arms every Christmas morning – and every other morning – for the rest of his life.

Steve blushed, looking for all the world just the way he did when Bucky used to say such things when they were young and loved each other in secret; Bucky kissed him again, wanting to absorb him entirely, to meld with him as completely in a physical sense as they were emotionally.

Pulling back just enough to guide Steve onto his stomach, Bucky kissed the back of his neck, burying his face in Steve's hair and breathing him in as he slowly, gently worked Steve open with his fingers. When Steve begged, Bucky relented and pushed into him, mouthing wetly at Steve's shoulder as he began moving, rocking his hips against the plush firmness of Steve's ass, their bodies as close as they could be. Skin to skin, heat building between them, they moved in perfect synergy, each knowing just what the other needed, and after they came, just seconds apart, Bucky buried his face in the side of Steve's neck, holding him until their tremors quieted and their breathing slowed.

After a haphazard attempt at cleaning them up with a nearby t-shirt, Bucky pulled Steve into his arms again, Steve's head resting in the hollow of his shoulder and his arm slung, heavy and comfortable, over Bucky's waist. "Can't we just stay home and stay in bed all day?" Bucky sighed, his fingertips ghosting over Steve's cheek.

Steve chuckled, lips curving into a wistful smile. "I wish we could, but we promised we'd be there. Besides, our friends are the only family we have left—"

"—besides each other," Bucky murmured. "Everything else has changed, but that never has."

"And never will." Steve craned his neck for a kiss and another and another, and they lost track of time again as it spun out like cotton candy, sticky and sweet.

They still made it to Times Square on time, arm in arm with jackets fastened and scarves wound around their necks to ward off the chill. In ones and twos, their friends began showing up, everyone exchanging hugs and warm greetings. The plan, as Steve had explained it, was to take a walk through Times Square, window shopping and seeing the sights – which struck Bucky as oddly touristy, but he supposed some members of the group didn't know New York City as well as the others – before stopping for lunch.

Bucky imagined, as their motley group began walking, that a baker's dozen comprised of well-known public figures would draw some attention, and draw attention they certainly did, but the complement of security guards Tony hired for the occasion kept the crowd at a reasonable distance. Deep in conversation with Clint, who sauntered along beside him on the left, Bucky almost missed it when Natasha spoke up from behind them.

"Hey, guys – do you see that?"

Clint spun around so fast he nearly lost his balance, and Bucky laughed, dropping Steve's arm to reach out and steady Clint. "What the hell was that, man?"

"Oh, yeah – I see it, Nat," Clint said loudly, pointing south, back the way they came.

"See what?" Bucky squinted, scanning the street for threats or entertainment, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"The marquee." Peter sounded excited, even more high-strung than usual. "The tall one."

Bucky glanced up and grinned. The entire column of screens adorning One Times Square contained one tall, sepia-toned photo of the same building as it looked in 1935. He remembered it well; Steve had dragged him into Manhattan more than once so Steve could sketch the structure.

As Bucky watched, the image on the marquee changed; now, the upper screen displayed a very familiar image, and his jaw dropped at the sight of one of the only existing photos of himself and Steve from before the war, this one taken in a photo booth at Coney Island in 1936. The two impossibly young men – children, nearly – mugged at the camera, each with an arm around the other's neck.

Before he had a chance to turn and ask Steve if he saw, a printed message began to appear, one letter at a time, typewriter-style, and as Bucky watched the words unfold, his hand came up to cover the lower half of his face.

_Bucky,_

_Will you marry me?_

_Till the end of the line,_

_Steve_

Blood rushing in his ears and head swimming, Bucky felt hands – Clint's? – grip his shoulders and point him north. There, on the sidewalk directly in front of him, was Steve, down on one knee with a ring clasped between his fingers and extended toward Bucky; Steve's face was both terrified and euphoric, his eyes fixed on Bucky's face. Dropping his hand from his mouth, Bucky gaped at Steve in shock, unable to speak, barely registering the presence of their friends surrounding them in a protective circle.

Steve spoke first, his voice wavering. "Well?" he asked, the beginning of a hopeful smile creeping onto his face. "I've been waiting a long time to make an honest man out of you. How 'bout it?"

A laugh that sounded more like a sob escaped Bucky, and he nodded fiercely; the relieved grin that lit up Steve's face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, and when Steve rose to his feet amid the racket of their friends whooping and cheering, Bucky lunged at him, shoulders shaking as he buried his face in Steve's neck. "Of course I will, ya fuckin' punk," he whispered, and Steve's arms tightened around him. "Never wanted anything more in my whole life."

"Good, ya big jerk," Steve choked out, "'cause there's no way I'm ever letting you go."

Bucky laid his gloved hands on either side of Steve's beloved face, and they met in the middle for their first kiss as a bona fide betrothed couple. When they pulled back, Steve took Bucky's left hand, removed the glove, and slipped the ring onto Bucky's flesh-toned metal finger. It was a simple platinum band with a tasteful pair of diamonds inlaid at the top, and the sight of it and what it meant overwhelmed Bucky, who leaned against Steve's chest, trembling.

"Look!" This time, it was Wanda's voice, and both Bucky and Steve turned their heads, blinking away tears to read the stories-high marquee.

 _He_  
_Said_  
_Yes!_

They laughed, clutching each other, as what must have been several hundred voices from around Times Square erupted in cheers. Nat was the first one to grab both of them in a hug, followed by Sam and then Wanda and eventually their entire group, the lot of them forming one massive knot surrounded by security guards with thousands of people milling around them.

"All right, we've made enough of a scene," Tony announced, raising his hand, and almost immediately, a gleaming black stretch SUV limousine pulled up to the curb beside them. "Off to the engagement party!"

"Engagement party?" Bucky whispered into Steve's ear once they had settled into obscenely cushy seats inside the limo.

Steve pressed his forehead against Bucky's, grinning. "Tony. Of course. He's the one who set up the marquee, too."

Bucky could only shake his head, stunned. Less than a year before, he and Tony had actively tried to kill each other, and now the guy was funding an elaborate marriage proposal.

"That's right, Frosty." Tony dropped into the seat next to Bucky, clapping him on the shoulder. "Congratulations, you crazy kids. To celebrate your engagement – and, to be honest, it's about fucking time – I've rented out the Rose Room at Barbetta. You're welcome."

"Barbetta?" Bucky turned his head slowly to find Steve beaming. Bucky had saved every spare nickel for months just to be able to take Steve to Barbetta for his twenty-first birthday, and Bucky had always said the only thing that would've made the evening more perfect was if they'd been able to hold hands on top of the table, maybe steal a few kisses, and walk out arm in arm.

And now they could.

And so they did.

As they lay entwined in bed that night, Bucky smiled into the dark of their bedroom, listening to Steve's slow, even breaths as he slept and soaking in the warmth and familiarity and nearness of Steve's body close to his. After pressing a soft kiss to the top of Steve's head, Bucky rested his head on the pillow, closing his eyes, and whispered, "Stevie, I'm never letting you go, either."

**

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are most appreciated! I'm on [tumblr](http://venusdoom3.tumblr.com), so stop by and say hi or toss me a prompt!


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